SlytherinSamurai
by twinsais
Summary: A slightly Sueish story written for House Pride Day in the hatsorting LJ community. Cunning, Ambition, and Pride don't always make a Villain, sometimes they make a hero.


Geri arched his head back and twisted his wrists, feeling the burn of abused skin as the coarse ropes dug into him. He'd been tied securely and well, with nearly no room for movement. It was too bad he'd been unconscious when he was tied, or he would have been able to change that. As it was, his chances of getting free seemed slim.

A sharp, sudden pain in his thigh reminded him that his captors were watching. His eyes narrowed as he fixed them upon the cloaked and hooded figure bending over him. The Death Eater kicked him again, hard, but he was ready this time, so it didn't hurt nearly as much. He gave the darkness beneath the hood a look of disdain, upper lip curling back to flash his teeth.

The Death Eater laughed.

"So sorry, Professor," he said mockingly, and Geri saw an answering flash of white teeth from within the shadows. "And just for your information, I wouldn't try changing if I were you – those ropes are silver-stranded. Our Leader has made provisions for your… peculiarities," he said, and spat. "Inhuman freak."

Geri took this with grace, as he hadn't been considering Shifting anyway, but the news that his claws would be useless to fray the ropes was a little bit of a setback. He sighed softly and settled, letting his head fall to his left shoulder. A muscle in his jaw stood out as he contemplated the man next to him, bound and unconscious, bleeding from the temple.

He'd known Harry Potter as long as he'd been alive. His father had taught Potter at school, and both his parents had served in the Order of the Phoenix alongside the legendary Auror. He too had been an Auror for a few short years before taking, at request, a teaching position at Hogwarts, and Harry had been like a mentor to him, teaching him everything he knew. A greater Wizard didn't exist in this time, and despite the fact that Potter had recently retired in order to also fill a position at Hogwarts – that of Headmaster- he was still the one the wizarding world turned to when it had serious problems.

Of course, he thought derisively, no one had realized that this was a serious problem until it had been too late. Voldemort had long been vanquished, and no one had foreseen a Death Eater resurrection. All the skill and spying of the Order of the Phoenix had been insufficient to root out the leader of the new Death Eater movement, but they had appeared out of nowhere and struck hard and fast. The Minister of Magic was dead and Geri, Harry, and a couple of the other Order of the Phoenix members had been captured and brought here. Why they were still alive, Geri didn't know – perhaps these Death Eaters needed Harry Potter for something, and intended to strike at his friends until he capitulated. It was, Geri had to admit, a tried-and-true method: Harry Potter was nearly fanatical about protecting those he cared about, including his wife and their son.

That son, Geri hoped, was back at Hogwarts, the nearness of which made his heart scream in rage. They were in the Forbidden Forest currently, and if he tilted his head back, he could just barely see the tip of one of Hogwarts' spires above the trees. They were far away, of course, miles, but at the same time they felt so near. It made the beast in Geri's heart snarl in frustration.

Harry was unconscious – at his age, his body was not as resistant to damage as it had been during his long and celebrated career. The scar on his forehead stood out livid and angry beneath his white hair. The cloaked figures standing over his body laughed and nudged him with their toes, and Geri growled under his breath. His vision wavered as the hooded figures turned to eye him, and he forced himself to take a deep breath and calm down. His vision returned to normal, and the gold that had seeped into his eyes faded back to the normal blue.

The fire that encircled them, flames the color of envy that didn't impede the movement of the Death Eaters in and out of the circle but seared him with heat, leapt high as another figure strode into the clearing. The other Death Eaters seemed to recognize him, though Geri could not make out any distinguishing features. They knelt and showed obeisance, and Geri straightened, straining to make out the face under the hood. His irises flooded with gold and suddenly, the darkness sprang into sharp clarity even as colors faded. The color of the flames and the color of the blood on Harry's face became the same, and the shadows under the hood were banished.

Geri sucked in a breath, disappointment, hopelessness, and wild fury warring in his heart, as a pale of pale, elegant hands reached up and pushed back the hood and he stared into the smirking face of Gael Malfoy.

"YOU!" he snarled, feeling his teeth sharpen and elongate. His scalp prickled as his hair thickened and coarsened, but he didn't care, not even when the silver woven into his bindings made his skin smoke. "Was it you all along, Gael? You and your bloody father doing this?"

"Don't presume to address me, abomination," Gael said quietly. He didn't bother looking at Geri, focused instead on Harry Potter. "You," he breathed, and Geri heard a wealth of hatred and anticipation threading silkenly in his voice. "You die today, Potter. And perhaps when I take your head home and display it to my father, he will throw off his illness long enough to be triumphant over your defeat. Lord knows he has waited long enough for it. You have done enough harm to the Malfoy family," he snarled, kneeling in front of the unconscious Headmaster. "And today, I will repair that harm, simultaneously avenging my father, my grandfather, and our illustrious master, and removing the greatest obstacle in the way of my ascent to godhood."

"You're insane," Geri protested. "Voldemort tried that already and look what it got him – his soul broken in pieces, scattered to the four winds, and a hell I wouldn't wish on anyone."

"I was not," Gael said calmly, but with infinite disdain, "speaking to you." He straightened and appraised Geri. "You would be the only one conscious, wouldn't you?" he reflected. "Your natural healing abilities. So lucky, aren't you, that your beastial father mated a metamorphae? It's hardly even a curse for you, is it? Perhaps, when I have time, I will investigate the results of that sort of pairing. An army of werewolves for whom the Change was voluntary," he suggested, "would be devastating."

"Metamorphae are too rare," Geri told him flatly. "It would take centuries to collect enough of them to breed an army like that."

Gael sighed. "As always, you underestimate me, Professor. I am loyal to my father, certainly, but I am not him. I have prepared long for this. We are not the Death Eaters of the time of Lord Voldemort – we are a new breed, and this time, we will triumph."

"Gael," Geri protested, twisting his wrists in earnest now and barely even aware of it. "Don't do this. Voldemort was insane, a monster, and you could be the one to finally pull your family name up out of the mire of association with the Dark Arts and wizards…."

"I am a dark wizard," Gael said flatly as he straightened. "And no amount of your reasoning will sway me in this, Professor. For Malfoys, it has always been our privilege and our pride to move in the darkness, and while I understand my family's long association with Lord Voldemort, I do not condone it. We are purebloods, an ancient and strong line, and if we are to raise any Dark Lord, it ought to be one of us, not a despicable half-blood who, because of his impurity, was doomed to failure."

Geri's heart sank. "Oh, Gael," he breathed, knowing now that it was, indeed, hopeless. Gael Malfoy was not like Draco or Lucius had been. He maintained a realistic assessment of his own strengths and weaknesses, and was both cunning and studious. He'd been one of the best students Geri had ever taught, and looking back on that potential, Geri found himself truly frightened. Was this, he wondered, how the old school staff had felt when they had looked upon the ascension of Tom Riddle?

Gael turned from him and addressed his Death Eaters. "Long have we labored for this day," he said. "We have toiled in secret, letting no one know of our existence or our plans. We have carefully seeded out the useless, the weak, and the disloyal. We have harvested a bountiful crop from among the youth, even under the nose of the staff of Hogwarts. We have secured our fortunes for the next century. And today, we destroy the one thing that stands in our way – more legend than man, many of you are afraid of Harry Potter and his Order of the Phoenix. Your fears were justified, so when I came to power, I turned my concentration toward removing this obstacle, and today we are successful. Harry Potter lies before us, bound and subdued. In the interest of our success, I will not make the mistakes of my predecessors. Now is not the time to gloat, or to steal our enemy's power. When one has such a terrible, powerful enemy, there is only one option: immediate, unhesitating destruction." With that, Gael held out his hand. One of his Death Eaters responded, placing the twisted hilt of a longsword in it. The blade gleamed, emeralds in the pommel sparkling in the firelight, the name of Salazar Slytherin burning silver along the length of the blade. Gael stepped close, and two of his Death Eaters rolled Harry onto his back, holding him down securely.

No, Geri thought desperately, writhing in his bonds. He was immediately set upon by four Death Eaters who restrained him. No, no, no….

Gael raised the sword and positioned it. The look on his face was one of cool satisfaction, and Geri knew this had always been Gael's defining strength – his sense of perspective and his ability to keep his emotions from running away with him.

Damn Troy, Geri thought suddenly and vehemently. Damn Troy Isabourne, for showing Gael exactly what a true leader is supposed to be, for helping him turn into this. Damn Gael for being unable to love, as Troy loves. And damn Slytherin for giving such evil strength a nest in which to grow.

Gael's shoulders tensed and Geri couldn't restrain a roar of protest, but then his enhanced vision caught on a sudden flurry of movement out of the corner of his eye. He turned that way helplessly, just in time to see the flames part and a dark figure burst through. The flames reached for the person, clinging to it, but unable to catch hold, and by this Geri knew it wasn't another Death Eater.

The other sign was the sword, the slightly-curved and gleaming length of the katana that reflected the light of the fire, arching slowly forward toward Gael's unprotected back.

It happened too fast. No one, not even he, could react. With terrible speed, trailing streamers of soft blue that indicated to Geri the subject was under the influence of the Celeritas Charm, the attacker sprinted forward. Gael seemed to twig to the fact that something was amiss, and his shoulder dropped in preparation to turn and face this new danger.

The katana plunged into his back. There was a sickening sound, the wet, sucking noise of flesh being parted. Gael arched, driven forward and upward by the force of the strike. His fingers loosened around the blade in his hands, and it tumbled, landing next to Harry's inert body. Watching as Gael Malfoy sank to his knees, Geri was unable to breathe. His lungs spasmed helplessly as the figure withdrew the sword, spun, and in a beautiful, clean cut that caused the instructor in Geri to applaud, sliced down through Gael's neck.

Gael dropped as a spray of blood burst from the wound. Gray eyes wide in surprise, he folded to the ground as gently as a falling flower, head tilted at an obscene angle, neck almost entirely severed. Geri noted, with some sort of distance academicism, that the cut had been perfect in the Japanese tradition, to leave a bit of skin on one side intact so that the head would not roll.

All around him, the Death Eaters stood, momentarily stunned. That moment spelled their deaths. With wild yells, over a dozen figures parted the flames and charged into the clearing. The sound of combat, blades slicing flesh, screams, and bodies falling, reached his ears and the four Death Eaters holding him let go of him to join the fight. It was over quickly, too quickly, before even a single spell was cast on the part of the Death Eaters. His view was blocked, and he looked up to see a Death Eater arched backwards, the length of a saber exiting his back as his assailant held him by the throat, then let him drop. The swordsmen wore no masks, and even if they had, Geri would have known the young man in front of him.

"Michael," he breathed. "What the HELL?"

Michael McCoy smiled wryly at him and scattered the blood from his sword before sheathing it. Despite his choice of blade, he wore the traditional haori and hakama of a samurai, black save for the silver and violet stripes on the sleeves and collar, and the violet obi at his waist into which his sheath was tucked. The heraldic shield of Ravenclaw was stitched into the left breast of the haori. "Sorry, Professor," he said quietly, kneeling and withdrawing his parrying dagger from his obi and reaching around Geri to slit the ropes that held him.

Geri's first action was to seize him by the robes. "What is going on here?" he demanded.

Michael held up a hand. "Whoa," he cautioned. "Easy, Professor. It's all right. We're here to rescue all of you."

"How did you know?"

He shrugged, smiling, showing off prominent front teeth. "Blame it on Gabby," he said simply.

Geri looked up and blinked.

He could hear her voice now, loud and commanding, directing the final efforts to dispatch the remaining Death Eaters. It was nearly quiet in the clearing now, and with Gael's death, the green fire had died. The only sounds were the gurgling of the Death Eaters who hadn't quite expired yet. Gabriella McGregor: Scottish, Muggle-born, and Slytherin. She happened to be McCoy's girlfriend, and both, he realized with a thread of hilarity, were members of his own fencing club. He'd taught them – taught each and every one of these students, he realized as he looked around – to wield a blade with deadly accuracy, to fence and to fight, and to live as warriors. He'd formed the Fencing Club only two years after Gael Malfoy had graduated school, a mere eight years ago. McCoy was one of his most brilliant students, and most dedicated, and stood as the current captain. Geri had been given cause to speculate, on many occasions, that the only reason McCoy had been Sorted into Ravenclaw rather than Slytherin was his utter lack of desire for power. He preferred to stand as second-in-command to someone else with more force of personality.

Someone like McGregor, who, while not Geri's most talented or skilled student by far, was definitely his fiercest.

He stood, shaking off the pain of his reddened wrists, and helped McCoy tend to Harry Potter.

"Ennervate," McCoy said, flicking his wand at Harry's inert body, but there was no response.

"It's probably a more powerful jinx or curse," Geri told him. "I'll stop the bleeding. Find my wand and I'll wake him."

"No need," said a low, deadly female voice. "Your wand, Professor Lupin." He looked up and accepted his wand with a nod of thanks from McGregor herself, who replied with a full-fledged bow. She wore a similar outfit to McCoy's, but with green and silver stripes, an emerald obi, and the shield of Slytherin sewn to her left breast. A slender chain encircled her throat, and on it hung the silver Ouroboros, two snakes entwined and feeding on each others' tails, with tiny emeralds for eyes. A gift from McCoy, he recognized. It glinted, making it seem as though the snakes were winking at him.

McGregor tucked back a strand of dyed-black hair that had escaped from its ponytail. "I'll see to the clean-up here," she told him succinctly. "I don't want any surprises."

Geri nodded, and she turned, heavy hakama swishing against her ankles as she paced back toward the center of the clearing. He turned accusing eyes on McCoy, who offered him a shrug. "What else did you expect us to do?" he wondered. "I mean, we couldn't just let them get away with it. Gabby thought it likely that Gael wouldn't be prepared for a strictly muggle sort of assault, and it looks like she was right."

"You planned this," Geri said pointedly. "You and her."

McCoy shrugged again, smirking this time. "Mostly her. She's the one who's always planning."

Geri rolled his eyes. "Finite Incantatum," he intoned, waving his wand at Potter's inert body. There was a flash of green light and Harry's body jerked. "Ennervate," he said, and those green eyes, still clear and piercing despite his age, flew open.

"Geri," Potter gasped, reaching for and clutching Geri's robes. Geri helped him sit up.

"Easy, Professor," he said quietly. "It's all right, Harry. The Death Eaters are dead." He paused, then added quietly, "Gael Malfoy is dead."

"Then it was Gael," Harry muttered. "I had always suspected…." He sighed, the sound heavy with disappointment. "I had hoped he wouldn't turn out that way. And the others? His friends from Slytherin, I suppose?"

"Probably," Geri agreed, looking up, but he stopped speaking when he saw the accusing gaze McCoy fixed on him.

"They aren't all Slytherins," McCoy said pointedly. "And it's Slytherins that saved your lives today, so I wouldn't throw stones, Professor."

"Professor Lupin," Potter said before Geri could reply, "Michael has a point. I learned long ago that it was unwise to cast aspersions on a person's character based on their Sorting results. I myself was almost Sorted into Slytherin, and I often ponder what sort of man I might have been if I had ended up there." He stood easily, and Geri was amazed at the strength that still remained in that aged body. "Miss McGregor!" he called, voice thundering through the clearing.

Gabriella had just finished off one of the half-dead Death Eaters, and paused, sword still buried in the man's chest. Geri winced. The girl was only fourteen years old. To kill so calmly, so ruthlessly….

"Come over here, please," the Headmaster called, and McGregor gave him a sharp nod, twisting the blade in the chest of the Death Eater and withdrawing it. She used a piece of the dead man's cloak to clean her blade, then sheathed it, rising abruptly and stalking over to them. She moved as Geri had always remembered, swift, forceful, and purposeful, aggression given form. He'd recognized the cadence of her footsteps before anything else when she'd struck Gael Malfoy down. He would recognize her walk blind in a crowd, he felt, but he knew nearly all his Fencing students that well.

She stopped in front of them and bowed deeply to the Headmaster. Geri was amused – he hadn't taught her her samurai habits. He instructed students in the arts of the saber, rapier, Florentine, and Kendo styles, and attempted to impose a modicum of discipline and tradition on them, but this was entirely her own doing. "Headmaster," she said sharply. "The Death Eaters have been subdued. I ordered two left alive for questioning by the Ministry. So far as we know, none escaped, but we don't know their total numbers, so I can't guarantee that. We made a start," she said, her tone imperious but her words humble, "I'm certain better-trained men can take it from here."

"Indeed, Miss McGregor," the Headmaster said severely. "You've done quite enough. And while I don't mean to sound ungrateful – it is very likely that you and your peers have saved my life today – you have also made killers out of children."

Her dark eyes flicked up to fix on his face. Her tone was dryly cutting. "When we agreed to come after you, I made certain everyone involved knew exactly what would be demanded of them," she said with a slight shrug. "If we're killers, it is by choice. And if there is a punishment you plan to levy, levy it on me," she told him firmly. "It was my idea. I made the plan, I executed it."

The Headmaster sighed. "I count twenty-four bodies in this clearing," he said. "You are willing to take responsibility for the murder of twenty-four men?"

"Yes," she said flatly.

"You do realize that you are offering to be sent to Azkaban for the remainder of your life."

McCoy made a sudden movement, but Geri stopped him. "Wait," he said softly. "Just wait. Trust the Headmaster."

"If he sends her away, I'm going with her," McCoy said firmly. Geri just nodded.

Gabriella tilted her head, eyes flashing in rebellion. "I realize," she said sardonically. "I happened to think it was more important to destroy the new Death Eater movement. Color me crazy, but I hardly think my life, in the grand scheme of things, is important enough to warrant saving at the cost of all the people they would have killed if they had succeeded. I'm just a fourth year student," she declared, chin tilting upward, eyes daring the Headmaster to pronounce sentence.

He appraised her quietly. "We will discuss this when we return to the castle," he told her. "At this juncture, I think it more important to alert the Ministry to the events of this night. Professor Lupin," he said, turning to Geri. "Gather your students… these are all your students, aren't they?" The corner of his mouth twitched upward knowingly.

Geri flushed, but a glance at the dark, narrowed eyes of McGregor and the clenched jaw of McCoy, who had taken her hand and twined it with his, caused him to raise his own chin. "Yes," he said firmly. "They're all mine."

"Members of your fencing club," the Headmaster said slowly, and looking around, added, "And many of them, members of Professor Snape's Dueling club as well."

"Yes sir," Geri agreed. "And I'm sure he'd be very proud of them too, sir."

The Headmaster raised an eyebrow, and Geri subsided, still flushed. But Potter only smiled. "Very well. Take these students back to the school and send them off to bed, all except for Mister McCoy and Miss McGregor. I will see those two in my office. Now," he said, sounding almost cheerful as he straightened his robes. "Off with you, all of you. I'll contact the Ministry. Given O'Neil's recent death, I'm certain they'll be happy to know the threat has been neutralized."

Geri nodded and looked at McGregor. She spun on her heel.

"The battle is over!" she called. "We are returning to the school! Come on, everyone, we'll celebrate later."

Murmurs of agreement rose from the remainder of the students, and the ringing sound of blades being returned to their sheaths was nearly sweet to Geri's ears. The students gathered around, and Geri was surprised, and humbled, to note that amongst them, the silver and emerald stripes of Slytherin were most common. The second most common were the silver and violet of Ravenclaw. He saw only a few crimson and gold Gryffindor colors, and about as many bronze and black Hufflepuffs. "All right, you lot," he said, hearing his voice crack, feeling his eyes tear. Was this pride? Yes, he thought, more pride than he'd ever felt in his life. The grimly satisfied faces of his students stared back at him, and for a moment, he didn't have words.

"Yes, Instructor?" This was a fifth-year Hufflepuff holding a spear a little taller than himself. The feathers tied below the head were red with blood, and his face was splattered with it, but he didn't seem to mind.

How quickly they grow up, when they must, Geri thought, and how they deserve to inherit all the best of the world.

"We're going back to the school," he told them all. "Clean up and go to bed. Your valor tonight doesn't excuse you from classes tomorrow," he reminded them, and with a few groans and a few laughs, the students began to filter back through the trees toward the lights of the castle.

Geri turned to the two who still stood, hand in hand, watching him. McCoy, only months from graduating, and McGregor, who'd been one of his favorite students since he had first seen her amongst the first years in his Defense Against the Dark Arts class. "Come on, you two," he said. "Time to head back. The Order of the Phoenix will take care of things now."

The Headmaster was moving about, awakening the others who had been stupefied or knocked unconscious with healing charms. It was quiet now, and grass and twigs crunched under their feet, a somehow fatalistic sound as the three of them turned back toward the lights and warmth of the school.

X-X-X

Geri waited with his students in the Headmaster's office for two hours before the door swung open to admit the straight-shouldered, tall form of Professor Potter. He still wore Auror's robes after all this time, and Geri quickly stood up out of respect. McCoy echoed him, and McGregor did also, though she did so slowly, still appraising the Headmaster as if he was a dangerous animal she wasn't certain wouldn't bite.

"Thank you, Professor Lupin," the Headmaster said quietly. "Get Eloise to tend to your wounds and then get some sleep."

Geri nodded, glanced at his students, and left the room. He had no hand in it now – now it was up to Harry.

X-X-X

The Great Hall was unaccustomedly quiet on Wednesday when Geri showed up for breakfast. He looked over the faces of his students, who were eating quietly, their conversations hushed. Those who noticed his entry watched him with grim faces. He knew why – neither McCoy nor McGregor had been at school for the past couple of days. They had been needed at the Ministry. Their testimonies had been extremely important in the flurry of trials that followed the showdown at the school, and nearly two-dozen people had been convicted. How they had known about the kidnapping of key members of the Order of the Phoenix, the identities of the new Death Eaters, and the moot in the Forbidden Forest, Geri still didn't know. Reporters had been shut out of the trials and Ministry officials were tight-lipped. The Daily Prophet speculated wildly, but they had no information of weight.

He took his seat at the staff table next to Professor Snape, who cast him a look of sour dislike. He offered the silver-haired Potions master a wry smile and settled in to consume his kippers. However, he'd barely taken a bite before Professor Potter stood up.

"Students and teachers," he declared, stroking the short, grizzled beard he'd taken to wearing later on in life. "I am pleased to announce the return of two of our very own Hogwarts students who have been instrumental in the capture and conviction of members of the Death Eater cult over the course of the last week." He motioned, and the students' heads turned toward the massive doors. Standing together in the doorway were McGregor and McCoy, looking over the sea of faces with slight apprehension.

"Sit down," the Headmaster told them, and they obeyed, parting to return to their respective house tables. He remained standing, and the curious students fixed their attention back on him. "I have spent many hours speaking to the students involved in the events of several nights ago," he said, folding his hands in front of him. "Many of you have spent time in my office, and from the information which I have gleaned from you, and the stories I have been privy to thanks to my Ministry connections, I believe I have built an accurate picture of how, exactly, all this came to be. And winding throughout all these stories, I have heard one name in particular." He settled, casting his gaze around. Geri set down his silverware, gulping.

"Therefore, it is my wish to distribute some much-deserved House Points. To Macey Granger, John Weasley, and Annabelle Weasley, of Gryffindor, for stalwart courage and bravery on that most terrible night… fifty points each."

There was applause, particularly from the Gryffindor table, as those students, children of members of the Order, flushed.

"To Andrew Dunnin, Guenevere O'Connell, Erik Solnis, and Geoffry Harman of Hufflepuff, for unflinching willpower, I also award fifty points each."

The Hufflepuffs cheered wildly, and the Gryffindors joined them.

"To Anna Marie Welton, Todd Camprey, Devin McGonagall, Aaron Flinch, William O'Mancy, Katherine Uevern, Michael McCoy, and Poppy Lovell, of Ravenclaw, for excellent strategy and form applied in most effective fashion, fifty points each."

The Ravenclaws whooped and cheered, and those named looked very pleased with themselves. Potter let them quiet down a bit before continuing.

"To Tristan Isabourne, Wyndolyn Drake, Luke Felux, Conner Filch, Auren McNair, Vivian Corstairs, Amanda Blanchester, Dorian Brockelhurst, Ketterick Summers, and Thomas Nott, of Slytherin, for showing the world that cunning and ambition can powerful weapons to fight evil and injustice, fifty points each."

The cheering at the Slytherin table was uneven. Many there had family members who had been sent to Azkaban within the past two days, but many there had been honored, or were friends of those who had been honored, as heroes. Potter let them also quiet before settling back and raising his hands.

"And," he said, "To one particular student, I have a special award to give." When the cheering died and everyone's attention was on him, he continued. "When Voldemort first came to power…" there was a collective intake of breath when he said the name, but he ignored it, "… he ascended from the deepest shadows of a house known for its affinity with darkness. From those shadows, he also gathered the lion's share of his followers. From this house came the majority of the original Death Eaters, and the majority of the New Death Eater movement's members as well. And so it has come to pass that Slytherin, founded by Salazar Slytherin himself, who was so concerned with power and purity of blood, has something of a reputation amongst the rest of you. I do not think it would be amiss to say it is a poor reputation."

The Slytherins shifted in irritation and the rest of the school eyed the serpent's table.

"However, this event brings to mind what which many of us have forgotten. Ambition, in itself is not an evil thing. It is what can drive a person to accomplish great things, to do wonderful works that bring great benefit to wizardkind, and to excel. Cunning, also, is not evil in itself. With cunning have the greatest warriors been brought low, and with cunning have the greatest leaders of our time ruled those who served them. Untempered, this combination can produce the greatest monsters wizardkind has ever known. But, in combination with other attributes, it can also produce the greatest heroes. I am speaking of course, of courage, intelligence, wit, loyalty, and dedication. Those of you from other houses claim these attributes as your own, but they are not exclusive to you, as one young lady has recently proven.

"She put her life at risk by spying upon Death Eaters and the children of Death Eaters, uncovering their plan to murder key Ministry officials and those they counted as threats, including several of your own teachers and myself. She gathered around her those trustworthy and strong to oppose this plan. She devised a plan that would allow her and her affiliates, whom I have just named, to take advantage of the weaknesses of an extremely powerful wizard. She led her peers in putting this plan into action with astounding success, resulting in a complete victory for her forces without a single casualty. She recently stood trial for murder and conspiracy to commit murder, having volunteered to accept responsibility for the actions of everyone involved in that event. And I am pleased to say, she and all of you have been completely acquitted. Despite numerous threats to her family and friends, she testified courageously against many members of the new Death Eater movement and was instrumental in their conviction."

Potter rocked back on his heels and surveyed the gathered students. "It takes great courage to oppose evil," he said gravely, "even moreso when you know that such opposition may result in unpleasant consequences for yourself. Sometimes what must be done is neither pleasant nor rewarding, but those who will do it anyway, simply because someone has to, are the ones upon whom all our faith and hope rests. So, for courage, cunning, careful planning, excellent leadership, unswerving dedication to her decisions, and above all, the ruthlessness to do what had to be done despite the cost, I hereby award two-hundred fifty points to Miss Gabriella McGregor, along with this Award for Special Services to the School," he added, lifting a small, walnut plaque with a brass plate affixed to it into the air. "Congratulations, Slytherin," he said frankly. "I deeply hope that this signifies a new beginning for all of you. I would invite you to forsake the shadows and walk with the rest of us, in the light, but I know this would be foolish." He turned his eyes toward the Slytherin table and Geri watched as McGregor raised her gaze, still rebellious, still smoldering, to meet his. "The shadows," said the headmaster quietly, "are part of who you are. They are, and always will be, an essential aspect of your strength."

The hall was silent for a long moment. No one cheered this latest development. Then, to Geri's surprise, McGregor got up and left the hall. Her swift, forceful footsteps echoed through the heavy stillness of the hall, as every eye watched her exit. She vanished into the all, and the Headmaster sat down. Geri leaned past Professor Carrington, who taught Arithmancy, and hissed at Potter.

"Headmaster…what's all that about?" he wondered in bewilderment.

Potter sighed, his smile weary. "She has never liked me," he said philosophically. "Perhaps I complimented her too much. Ah well." He dug his fork into a pile of eggs and turned saddened green eyes on Geri Lupin. "Whatever else they may be," he said quietly, "whatever good they may do, you must always remember that a snake is a snake, and a Slytherin is always a Slytherin. It is their greatest strength, as well as their downfall, the quality of which Salazar never spoke, but which carries through everything they do and say."

"What's that?" Geri wondered.

The Headmaster sighed again, eyes flicking up to the doorway. "Pride, of course." He pushed his eggs around on his plate. "Where would any Slytherin be without their pride?"

Geri nodded and returned to his meal.

Pride indeed.

Finis


End file.
